Learning to love again
by KnuxZimRyoko15
Summary: There is nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone. Can Wonka's heart soften again? NOT A MARYSUE!
1. Chapter 1

Dark storm clouds hung over the factory, and despite the cheerfulness of everything inside, a slight gloom still filled the massive building. Charlie could feel it. He sighed and pushed a small strand of hair out of his eyes as he watched the Oompa-Loompas make their daily rounds. Even they were uneasy, and you KNEW something was wrong if the Oompa-Loompas were upset.

Charlie thought he knew why. Nothing had been heard from Mr. Wonka----or Willy, as he wanted Charlie to call him----for nearly four days now. In the entire six years of their partnership, he had never just disappeared like this (not without a reason, anyway). Though he couldn't exactly think of it as a partnership. Mr. Wonka had been more of a mentor and father figure to Charlie, teaching him everything he knew and nurturing the wonderful creative ideas that Charlie didn't even know he had. Wonka obviously adored his young pupil, singing his praises often and loudly and even venturing a wary sign of affection here and there: a slight hug, a quick ruffle of the hair, and the occasional arm around the shoulders. Charlie cherished any gesture in his favor.

Yet…Mr. Wonka seemed so DISTANT from him. He was THERE, in plain view every day, but never truly THERE. Charlie wanted desperately to think of him as more than just a mentor; He wanted him as a friend. It became increasingly obvious though, that Mr. Wonka just did not seem to feel this way. He still flinched every time Charlie touched him, whether by accident or on purpose, and though Charlie often came to him with his troubles or thoughts, Mr. Wonka hardly ever spoke what he was feeling. He hardly ever SPOKE, if it didn't have to do with the factory, and any effort to just talk had been waved away and replaced by some very convenient disaster in some far-off room on the other side of the factory.

But why would Mr. Wonka be avoiding him?

Sighing, Charlie rolled over onto his back and stared at the Chocolate Room's far-off ceiling, enjoying the heat and the smell of melted chocolate. He let his mind wander aimlessly, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. He vaguely became aware of a presence sitting just behind him, and turned his head toward it.

" Hello Charlie. Enjoying yourself?"

There sat Mr. Wonka himself, smiling quietly as if popping up after four days gone was the most natural thing in the world. Charlie would be furious if he wasn't so happy to see him. "Where have you been?", asked Charlie as he sat up and looked Mr. Wonka right in the eyes.

The older man shifted a little uncomfortably and flashed his perfected plastic grin. "Why, nothing's wrong…Well something, but…. Here, why don't you come with me and I'll explain it the best way I know how." Then, as he stood up, Mr. Wonka did something he'd never done before.

He offered Charlie his hand.

It was a small gesture, and merely to help Charlie to his feet, but the fact that Mr. Wonka had willingly touched him was a very good sign. Charlie smiled in spite of himself, and hurried to keep up with Mr. Wonka's long strides.

"Hurry Charlie, I have a lot to talk about……"


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Wonka seemed to be in a very great hurry.

Onward and upward he flew, his coattails flapping lightly behind him, with Charlie struggling to keep up. Charlie couldn't help but wonder why they weren't taking the elevator as they climbed the seemingly never-ending stairs. Perhaps it was broken. Charlie stopped to catch his breath for a while, leaning against the door of a room labeled, "Fireballs". He looked up and realized that Mr. Wonka was nowhere to be seen. Panicking, Charlie started running up the stairs again. He couldn't be lost. He'd never been to this section of the factory before, and without a guide he could be stranded there forever! He may never----

"Charlie, my dear boy, you shouldn't lag behind."

Charlie didn't need to turn around to know Mr. Wonka was smirking at his brief moment of panic. Blushing bright scarlet, Charlie turned around and laughed nervously. "S-Sorry Mr. Wonka, I just had to catch my breath, and I lost you for a second."

A strange, unreadable expression spread over Mr. Wonka's face, and he slowly walked over to Charlie. "Charlie…", he said in barely above a whisper, "You needn't have worried. I never left. I'll never leave you behind, I promise". A small grin touched the corner of his mouth, and he stood up straight again. "Now then! Shall we?" Charlie nodded, and Mr. Wonka turned briskly on his heels and continued with his quick pace. Charlie, once again, questioned why they hadn't taken the elevator.

The subject on Mr. Wonka's mind, whatever it was, sure seemed to bother him a great deal. Charlie could tell. His face, which usually sported a sly half-grin at all times, was strangely blank, staring straight ahead at all times. Usually when they walked together though the factory, no matter how serious or ludicrous their destination, he'd always take the time to talk and laugh with Charlie. Now Mr. Wonka said nothing, nothing at all, and it greatly disturbed Charlie. His eyes though…. That's what bothered Charlie the most. Mr. Wonka's beautiful lavender eyes, usually twinkling with laughter or a clever joke, seemed slightly dead and empty…

As if he had been crying…

Would these stairs never end! They seemed to stretch forever in both directions, and Charlie once again had to stop. This time, though, he called out to Mr. Wonka. "Please sir, can't we rest for a bit? Or at least slow down?" The older man turned to him and cocked his head quizzically at him. Charlie flushed, and said, " It really MUST be important, or we wouldn't be going so fast."

"Ah…it IS important, DEATHLY important, Charlie…" It slightly unnerved Charlie how much emphasis was put on the word 'Deathly'. "And we really mustn't dally too long…" A slight mist of sadness covered Mr. Wonka's eyes for a moment, but he shook it off. "But never fear, my dear boy, we're almost there." He smirked again, and motioned for Charlie to get up. Turning again, Mr. Wonka said, "This is a VERY important part of the factory we're headed to, Charlie. You really ought to feel privileged, my dear boy." He stopped at a seemingly normal wooden door with a single gold 'W' engraved in the middle. Turning to Charlie, he smiled and said, "Do you know why?"

Charlie shook his head. "Why?"

"Because no one but me has ever gone in. Oompa-Loompas never come here, and I've never shown it to anyone." Charlie's eyes widened, and he watched intently as Mr. Wonka carefully unlocked the door.

Unable to stand the excitement, Charlie timidly asked, "What room IS this?"

Mr. Wonka looked back at him, opened the door, and said, "My dear boy…

"This is my room."


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie's jaw dropped.

In all of the factory, he had never seen a room such as this. The ceiling seemed to be painted the color of the outside sky, and Charlie could've sworn he saw the clouds moving. The entire room seemed to be bathed in an iridescent blue light which came from strange lamps that hung, almost in mid-air, around the room. The bed, which was twice the size of Charlie's, was a wondrous piece of candy sculpture. It seemed to be made entirely out of different-colored peppermint, stretched and woven together into complicated knots that decorated the headboard. A thin lace curtain hung around it, swaying gently in a breeze that didn't exist. The floor was covered in the same swudge that carpeted the Chocolate room, with tiny white Vanilla flowers growing in patches. He couldn't tell where the walls stopped or started, or if there were walls at all. The whole thing seemed to be drawn straight from a fairy-tale.

Amused by his reaction, Mr. Wonka asked, "Do you like it?" Charlie looked at him in disbelief. Chuckling to himself, Mr. Wonka motioned for Charlie to enter before walking in and taking a seat in the velvet armchair near the bed. Charlie stopped. Had that armchair been there when he first saw the room? He shook his head and decided not to bother with it. Logic had no grip on anything in the factory, much less in such a sacred place as Mr. Wonka's private bedroom. He took a seat on the swudge, close to his mentor.

For a moment, there was total silence. Mr. Wonka's gaze seemed to rest anywhere but Charlie, and he shifted uneasily in his seat. It could've been hours, for all Charlie knew, before he broke the silence with a sigh. "So…", said Mr. Wonka as he leaned back in the velvet, "I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here." Charlie nodded. Mr. Wonka wrung his hands together nervously, and stood up. A strange mix of sadness, fear, and nervousness shadowed his face as he began to pace the floor. "A few days ago, I got a c-call…" His voice cracked ever so slightly. "It was from a doctor…now, now I haven't bothered with a doctor in years, so this was unexpected, but it wasn't for me, ABOUT me I mean, it was about my f---", here he stumbled on the word, and he hid his eyes (a sign that he was about to cry). Charlie got up and made to comfort him, but Mr. Wonka gave him a quick wave. "No, no, I'm fine. Don't fuss over me. " He chuckled weakly and continued. "Apparently, he's b-been sick…sick for a long time, and---and the doctor said that he…" He choked slightly, and Charlie saw something shimmer on the older man's face.

It was a tear.

Mr. Wonka flicked it away quickly. "He's dead, Charlie. M-My dad, he's gone. He died….", he flopped back into his chair, "D-Daddy….he's left me for good this time…" He rubbed his eye furiously, fist clenched tight. Mr. Wonka looked straight at Charlie, an expression of confusion and hurt on his face. "He said he'd never leave again! HE PROMISED!" Covering his eyes with his hands, the great chocolatier began crying like a child, falling to his knees on the floor and whimpering pitifully.


End file.
